


The Shadows

by Meeralith



Series: Meera's GW2 Ficlets [3]
Category: Guild Wars 2 (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Hope, Order of Whispers, necromancer - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-05
Updated: 2019-01-05
Packaged: 2019-10-04 23:00:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17313497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meeralith/pseuds/Meeralith
Summary: Karashien, Reaper and jaded Dragon War veteran rots away in her own despair, until a young Whispers intiate, an asuran progeny, approaches her.





	The Shadows

She's way too young for the iron expression on her face. A child whose eyes lack the innocent glow, the spark that drives a young soul to explore, to learn. There's something else to her as she stands before Karashien, clad in her little uniform, looking up to the jaded Lightbringer. 

“I know who you are.” she claims and Karashien folds her hands in her lap, sighing deeply. She's not particularily good at gauging asuran age, but she knows enough to understand that this is not an adult.  
“Do you?” she responds, her voice as empty as her words. “Then you should know better than to approach me, girl.”  
“Initiate.” the progeny corrects. “You made mistakes, yes. I know that too. But you are powerful.”

Karashien glances down at her hands, shaky and frail, her bony wrists and brittle nails.  
“I used to be. I paid a great price for my power.” she counters. “I have nothing to give you, Initiate.”  
She expects an angry retort, but the little girl takes her off guard.  
“Then why did you return to the Order?” she asks in all sincerity, not a hint of malice in her voice.  
A hum is Karashien's only response and she leans back in her seat.  
She catches a glimpse of the goings on beyond the curtain that seclude her office from the rest of the Chantry.  
Valenze is instructing a group of spellcasters, too far from her to make out her words. Karashien tries to read her lips, but finds herself too weary to make an effort.

“I don't know.” she finally answers the progeny's question, and the girl angles her head.  
“That is really sad.” she states. “You had nowhere else to go, didn't you?”  
Again, Karashien remains silent, but the girl carries the conversation further.  
“You were part of something big. The fall of Zhaitan, the Pact. And then you just crumbled away. Is there anything left of you, Lightbringer?”  
She's about to simply respond with a firm “No.”, but the progeny's attentive gaze meets her again and she reconsiders.  
“What do you want?” she inquires in a toneless voice that would have scared most away, but the little girl must have seen that miniscule herald of a smile in her eyes.  
“I want you to teach me.” she says and point at Karashien's greatsword leaning against the wall.  
She slowly, laboriously rises from her seat and walks toward it, her cold, weak hand locking around the weapon's hilt. Cool metal breaks through the perpetual numbness of Karashien's limbs.  
She lifts the weapon off the ground and weighs it in her hands. It feels natural still, the blade an extension of her body, and it beckons to her magic.

A heartbeat of hesitation, then Karashien answers the call, lets the weapon channel again; it flares up like a match by a flame.  
Wavering black smoke ancloses the blade, the shadowlike silhouette of a massive scythe attempting to form at its edge, and a wave of excitement has Karashien's pulse speed up. She looks over to the tiny form of the asuran child by her desk, herself reflected in her eyes.

“Tell me your name, Initiate.” she demands and the girl's eyes narrow. She takes a step toward her, draws her scepter and points it at her.  
The weapon coats itself in shadows, just like Karashien's sword, but the darkness flares up like fire, engulfing the progeny. Her eyes glimmer from within her Death Shroud as she responds:

“My name is Sheasa.”


End file.
